Frayed
by oyewithpoodles
Summary: And this hunch he already had- the hunch as to why she was lying and behaving so abnormally? House just hoped that it was wrong. On this rare occasion, House hoped he was wrong.


**Hello! This is my first ever fanfic so please be patient with me! :D Comments are greatly appreciated.**

**Disclaimer: I don't own House **

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**_FRAYED_**

**Chapter 1**

Three days. It had been raining non-stop for the last three freakin' days. And if it wasn't the hazardous and slippery sidewalks that got to him, it had to be the continually soggy clothing sticking to his body after a prolonged limp outdoors.

All in all, Greg House was not in the best of moods as he splashed through puddles towards the hospital entrance.

But he finally made it into the lobby, shaking off the excess rainwater like a shaggy dog and getting a couple of dirty looks from walkers-by in close proximity. He ignored them of course, and continued his walk to the elevator door- regarding his desire to avoid a certain Deane of Medicine higher than his safety with squeaky, slippery sneakers on the tile floor.

"House!" a stern voice yells from its origin at the Clinic's entrance, " Get your ass over here and start working. You owe me clinic hours."

House cringed at being spotted and slowly turned around to look at his boss from across the lobby. Judging by her serious expression, he surmised that today was not a good day to argue- he owed her tons of hours and didn't have a case. Eventually, she would drag him by the ear to the clinic and ignore all excuses he could make up.

Sighing loudly and making sure his scowl was perfect, House made his way over to Cuddy. He made no hesitation to scan her outfit and curves before settling his eyes on her face. Just because she would get him to do the clinic hours, doesn't mean he had to go quietly.

"I didn't know you had twins, Cuddy," he said abruptly, faking hurt at not being informed of such news.

Cuddy was slightly taken aback by this suggestion. She was no longer used to his pregnancy comments ever since Rachel's adoption.

"Wha-House, I don't have time for this. The Clinic is backed up and-"

"I mean, you could have at least invited me to the baby shower," he continued, smirking. "So how much bigger are they? Looks to me like you went up a couple of cup sizes. Or is it just an upgrade of the bra itself?"

House, bending slightly over, was pretending to examine Cuddy's chest at close range when she pushed him away and scoffed impatiently.

"House, grow up! These _twins_ aren't interested." She placed the files in her hands over her chest, forcing House to stand upright again and look at her face before continuing, "We need you in the clinic. Now. No question, no excuses."

"But Mooom," House whined childishly, "You promised I could play with the-"

"Playtime's over." Cuddy interrupted, "Now that you're done with the 'annoy Cuddy' quota for the day, you can get your ass to work in the Clinic."

She shoved a couple of the files she held into House's chest. With that, Cuddy walked off, leaving the steady rhythm of high-heel shoes in her wake. After watching that superbly sculpted ass walk away from him, House looked down at the files now in his hand. He flipped through them begrudgingly before slapping all but one on the Nurse's Station counter. Then he turned around and made his way to the cafeteria, one file in hand, in the hopes that his favorite doughnut would be on some poor, oblivious kid's plate.

With a mouth full of rainbow sprinkled doughnut, the diagnostician returned from his detour to Exam Room 1. He was bracing himself for a long day of idiotic patients without a clue _or_ a central nervous system, so he chased the doughnut down with a couple of vicodin.

House slipped the pill bottle back into his blazer pocket while opening the door to the exam room. It was occupied by two people- a father and daughter, he presumed; the former leaning against the exam table and the later sitting on it.

As House limped to the stool by the door, his eyes automatically scanned over the girl in front of him. She looked to be a young teenager, with a cast on her left forearm. Dark, curly hair framed a face staring at the floor and her small frame was slightly slouched. House also noticed the way her small hands played with a lose fray from her t-shirt.

"So, what're you in for, kid?" He asked as he reached the stool and sat down.

When there was no response, House opened the file again, quickly searched for her name, slapped it shut and looked back at the girl, whose focus on the floor had not wavered. Before he had a chance to use the name, her father spoke up.

"She's here for some birth control pills."

House tore his gaze from the girl to the man standing next to her. He was tall, well built, and looked like some serious money. House knew the type, and was rather surprised this guy would waste his time taking his daughter to the clinic when he could be out on a luxurious yacht or golf course.

"Is she, now? Well, did you remember to tell her?" House asked and nodded toward the quiet girl, "'Cause she seems a little dazed."

"Oh believe me, she knows." The man frowned at his daughter and shook her by the shoulder with one hand. The girl tensed and her back went immediately straight, eyes clenched tightly closed.

"Bella! Pay attention to what the doctor has to tell you," He ordered, "Before you end up getting yourself knocked up."

At the mention of a pregnancy the girl's eyes opened wide and flickered on her father before she nervously turned her face to House for the first time.

"I don't really need those. I-I'm not like that, honest." She said quietly, but frantically. House could see the embarrassment in her eyes at her father's suggestion.

His eyebrows rose. Now, _this_ was interesting. Usually it was the daughter who was desperate for birth control pills behind the parents' back. In Bella's case, her father was demanding them _for_ her.

"Stop telling lies, Bella. Now, you're taking them whether you want to or not," the father continued with an accusatory glare to his daughter, "I won't have my only daughter knocked up by some imbecile that doesn't know how to use a condom."

With that said, the girl remained quiet. She lowered her head again, this time focusing her gaze on the loose threads from her shirt- her fingers returning to the nervous pulling and twisting.

House's eyes went back and forth between the two. He watched their interaction and noticed the huge control issue the father had. It had only been a couple minutes and already he hated the guy's guts.

The doctor's mind worked as he puffed air into his mouth only to release it with an obnoxious pop. "Well," he shrugged, "looks like we've got ourselves a dilemma."

"What are you talking about?" the father demanded. His arms crossed over his chest. "Just give her the damn pills."

House ignored him and looked at the girl, then nodded to her cast. "How'd you break your arm?"

"What does that have to do with anything?!" The father's stance squared up. "She's come here for the pills."

"No, _you_ came here for the pills. And I believe I asked your daughter a question about her cast, so shut up." House glared up at the man before softening it slightly at the girl.

Bella was obviously anxious about something. She kept looking back and forth between her father and House. Her right hand was now clutching her cast-covered arm to her chest.

"Hey! Look at me." House said, rolling the stool closer to the girl. He put a hand out forcefully to her father when he started to speak before asking again, "Tell me what happened when you broke your arm."

It was like she didn't know how to respond. House could tell; she was torn between telling the truth and a lie. And House knew it was her father's presence that prevented her from just saying what happened. This situation was becoming more and more interesting.

After a few prolonged moments, Bella finally spoke. "I-I was, um…I was roller-blading outside…when I, uh...I fell on the concrete. "

His eyes never leaving Bella's face, House nodded slowly to her story. You didn't have to be a genius to know that she was lying through her teeth. Besides the fact that this story didn't match the one described in her file he looked through earlier, she wasn't making any eye contact and kept fidgeting with her damn shirt. She was nervous. She was afraid.

Something was going on here- House could feel a tugging feeling inside of him. The behavior of this girl was strangely familiar, and his constant desire to solve all puzzles forced House to look into this deeper, to find the reason for this nauseating feeling in the pit of his stomach.

The doctor's eyes shifted to the aggravated man before giving another long look at the girl in front of him. The image of her sitting there seemed so painfully similar to a part of his past he never wanted to revisit. Ever. And this hunch he already had- the hunch as to why she was lying and behaving so abnormally? House just hoped that it was wrong. On this rare occasion, House hoped that _he was wrong._


End file.
